


Senses

by AudreyRose



Series: It's Not a Nightmare When You've Lived It [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Young Justice
Genre: Angst, Blood, Feels, Gen, Implied Character Death, only Dick/Jason if you sqint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-18
Updated: 2013-04-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 20:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/765653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudreyRose/pseuds/AudreyRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick gets injured whiles he's attempting to find Jason and talk some sense into him. Jason finds him instead. But is it too late for Dick?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Senses

**Author's Note:**

> Random plot bunny that wouldn't leave me alone or let me sleep until it was written. I quite like the way it turned out and if I can come up with something I'd like to work on a sequel / prequel. Also while I adore Dick I have to admit I love hurting him (then going back and having feels over it). Also this was my first time writing Jason in any form and I'm rather happy with the way he turned out. I really would like to play around with his character a bit more if given the chance. I'd also really like some feedback because I really have no clue what my readers like. Or would like to see / read. Also I have cookies.

Dick's body swayed as he stumbled his way into the near abandoned warehouse. He can taste the blood in his mouth, bit back a whimper. He had to find Jason, stop him before someone got hurt. _'It's a bit late for that,'_ he thought as he clutched his side, swallowing another mouthful of his own blood.

He stumbled again, his body slumping against crates filled with who knows what. His senses are filed with the scent of dust, wood and his own blood. His ribs ache and he can't draw enough air as he slides to the dusty cement. He thinks he hears footsteps, a thud of someone landing on wood. His vision is starting to blur when he hears the familiar taunting voice, even if its far too bitter now.

"Dickey-bird, is the game over?"

Dick coughs, pain ripping through him as he tries to lift his head. He feels Jason land on the cement floor before him, hears the clicking of his pistol and feels the cold metal pressed to his forehead. He forces his eyes open, not realizing they'd shut. His eyes take in the bitterness on the others face, emotions the other doesn't know what to do with.

"The golden boy isn't so cocky now, is he? Brought to his knees just like any other," the sneer on Jason's face makes his stomach drop. Makes him wonder if that's what all of this is about. Him. Wonders if that's what always made the other boy standoffish, competitive and angry towards him in the later years. Wonders if he was always trying to live up to him.

"Jay, you don't have to do this," his voice is wrecked, full of pain and slurred. Another cough racks its way though Dick's form, bringing blood and a gasp of pain with it. He sees the hesitation on the younger mans face, feels the barrel lessen in pressure. He feels something warm dripping from the corner of his mouth, brings fingers up and pull away coated in blood.

His eyes are heavy, he slumps back against the crates, resting his head. Dick is aware of Jason's movement, hears the clatter of the gun hitting cement and suddenly he's there the boy he'd called his brother. Jason's hands, the weight of his eyes, taking him in.

"Dickey-bird," his voice is quiet, almost scared and it forces his eyes open. Those familiar eyes watching him carefully, fright clear on his face. Dick would laugh if he could, but he smiles tiredly instead, struggles to touch the younger man's hand. "You can't die, I'm the only one allowed to kill you."

He sounds so childlike he can't help but let out a pained laugh. He feels those fingers searching, swallows back a pained gasp when pressure is applied to the bullet wound. Listens as Jason swears and applies even more pressure, rambles on about how he's the only one worth his competition. Hears the broken bitter laugh that passes the others lips.

"Come on Dickey-bird," that quiet plea, the way his voice hitches in attempt to hide his emotions. Dick wants to respond, his lips parting slightly, but he can't make his voice work. His fingers twitch and he reaches up, touching the others face gently.

He wants to say 'It's okay Jay, I forgive you,' as he's pulled against him. He allows Jason to hold him close, feels the tears soaking through his hair, feels the lips moving against his forehead as darkness closes in around his vision.

"I'm so sorry Dickey-bird, please don't leave again."


End file.
